Blood Rush

Ch. 5: Rough n' Tug

Chapter Five: Rough n' Tug

Jerome leaned in and kissed her deeply, flesh against flesh as he pressed his chest against hers. Delilah returned it, and then swiftly pulled from the kiss to say quickly,

"Mother will hear us."

"She's out cold from the booze," Jerome dismissed her, smiling. "She isn't going to hear anything. You know how she gets."

Delilah raised a hand to his jawline, grasping his chin between thumb and fingers,

"You're just saying that to pacify me."

Jerome licked the web of her hand with the tip of his tongue, grinning widely at the firm grasp around his jaw. He pulled his head away from her, and leaned forward once more, inches away from Delilah's face.

"Okay, maybe I am," Jerome shrugged. "You got me."

"So quit talking," Delilah permitted.

She spread her legs underneath the covers, allowing Jerome to settle between them, cozie rosie. Jerome bit Delilah's bottom lip, inciting a sharp inhale from his sister as he nipped her a little too hard—But she didn't recoil.

Jerome let a hand fall between the two of them where he found her little clit, brushed against it.

"You're a tease," Delilah remarked quietly, squirming underneath him. "I told you that you don't need to be gentle."

"Are you going to instruct me how to do this or are we going to have a little fun?" Jerome remarked with light irritation, his facial expression coming to a halt.

"I didn't say I hated it." Delilah said.

"You didn't say you liked it." Jerome said pointedly. "You were vocal before. So...tell me. Do you like it?"

"Yes," said Delilah, and her voice went slightly high-pitched when Jerome tested her truth by thumbing her clit under the covers. "Yes."

Jerome felt the heat between her legs, and felt a desire to bury his cock inside of her, though he fought the urge.

Delilah closed her eyes, mouth parting slightly, as he slid a finger along her folds, teasing and prodding, forbidding any penetration of any kind. Delilah reached between them and grabbed his hard erection.

"Fuck me," she demanded.

As tempting as it was, Jerome pushed her hand away, and then removed his hand all together.

"What are you doing?" Delilah remarked, staring up at him.

"We did it your way under the bridge." Jerome said. "My turn."

Delilah furrowed her brow, but the answer was there when he pulled the covers back, and he slid down the bed to set his head between her legs. His hands parted her legs, fingers holding her thighs apart.

"So we're taking turns, huh?" Delilah remarked curiously. "I don't recall ever doing anything like that in childhood."

"That's because nothing that we did as kids was fun. Please, taking turns mopping the floor? Sharing chores? Oh, taking turns washing dishes, yeah, that's a peach—"

"You made your point, Brother," said Delilah with rolled eyes.

"Good. So, can we…?" Jerome interrogated her, gesturing with his fingers to continue his presumptive strike on Delilah.

He didn't give her a chance to answer if she did have an answer, for Jerome slipped his tongue inside her, causing Delilah to buck her hips against his mouth. And he tasted her. She was sweet. Like cinnamon. Jerome uttered a noise of approval, his voice vibrating against her and she squirmed between his fingers. Delilah let out a moan, and Jerome felt the familiar fire stir in his belly. He felt quite confident in his ministrations, and he wanted to her to be louder..

Mother would be out cold. Her guest would have been gone by now.

Jerome slid a finger inside of her, combined with his taunting tongue on her clit—She was slick with arousal. Delilah halted a fistful of Jerome's red hair, not begging him to stop, but delighting in it.

He slid two fingers inside her, pumping in and out, pushing her to her climax. Delilah's moans escalated, louder, desperate.

Jerome removed himself from her pussy, only to climb on top of her, set his cock against her slick entrance.

He set her lips on fire with his, kissing her roughly, grabbing a handful of her red hair as she had so roughly pulled his—and he slid inside her.

Sweat and a lustful fever between the pair of them, Jerome fucked her hard. Delilah wrapped her legs around his waist, and she egged him to keep going with buckling hips.

"Yes, yes," Delilah pleaded, mouth falling open.

Jerome grunted hard against her met thrusts, pushing into her as her walls clenched around him,

"Goddamn it."

The bed rocked against the fragile wall, the mattress squeaked beneath them under the foreign pressure. Jerome reveled in Delilah's out cries.

Delilah reached for Jerome's neck, grasping his throat. She clasped her fingers around him tightly, and warranted an enthusiastic smile from Jerome.

"Fighting me…Deedee?" Jerome gasped through her clutches, though he didn't stop pounding into her.

"No," Delilah whispered, "Do it to me."

Jerome conceded with an amused smirk and wrapped a free hand around Delilah's throat, pinning her to the bed. She gasped under his stronger hold of her, but despite the struggle to breathe, an aroused grin broke out on Delilah's face.

So they tested to see who could outlast the other, the contest being judged by the breath of air or the sexual climax who could say.

After a couple of seconds, Delilah released him, and then she orgasmed underneath him, back arching. Jerome released her neck and hunkered down on his elbows on either side of her head, tightened by her clenching walls, and came quickly behind her.

Finished, he rolled off her.

Delilah gasped, rubbing her neck where a fine hand print fleshed out bright pink from Jerome's grasp. Her hand print hadn't left a trace, though Jerome rubbed his neck as well. Although her grip hadn't been as formidable as his, Jerome approved.

"That was better than the last time," Delilah said quietly, stretching, putting her arms behind her head.

"Yeah, well, a few things were different than last time."

"Oh, are you going to tell me that it hurt?" Delilah remarked callously.

"I hurt you more than you hurt me," Jerome said, and he fingered her sore throat. "Remember that."

"Is that a threat?"

"No, Sis," Jerome said with a smile. "Just something to remember, like I said." He clicked his tongue. "We gotta get you a gag."

"Too loud?"

"Might be a reason why she called you Delilah."

Delilah frowned.

"I told you not to call me that ever."

"I didn't. Just reference. Lila."

Jerome gasped and let out a chuckle when Delilah punched him hard in the arm. She winced and shook her knuckles, dulled pain.

"Okay, Deedee," Jerome excused his behavior. "Mea Culpa."

"Asshole," Delilah muttered.

"Is that a suggestion for next time?" Jerome asked curiously.

Delilah scoffed and threw a pillow at his face.